


Bruiser

by redonthefly



Category: Agent Carter (TV), Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Gen, Peggy!Cap, peggy and howard are bros
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-22
Updated: 2015-10-22
Packaged: 2018-04-27 15:48:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5054620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redonthefly/pseuds/redonthefly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Her shield has it's virtues. Namely, smashing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bruiser

The man went down with a grunt, dropping to his knees and then slumping over to become a puddle of tweedy fabric and blood on the cracked concrete at Peggy’s feet.

She adjusted the shield on her left arm, tucked her pistol back in her hip holster with her right, and caught her breath. The warehouse was quiet now, all the clattering and yelling and the crackle of gunfire having ceased, with now one else around except a trio of men in domino masks and baggy trousers lying prone in various splayed positions on the floor.

There was a new singe mark on shield’s upper left quadrant, streaking the rich blue paint so that the metal was visible again, shiny as chrome, and she rubbed at it with her glove, considering. She had not even noticed that it had happened, which was, she supposed, the point of the matter - a shield that let bullets through was hardly good as shield at all.

At the end of it all, Steve’s shield had many like it, including the pattern she’d drawn on herself: a self righteous spray of scars that she only slightly regretted, if only for the display of temper. Steve’s retelling of the story had kept the Commandos in stitches for months.

It had a far amount of heft to it, which she had also not realized. But then, in Steve’s hands it had all seemed rather easy, least of all  _lightweight_ ; she wasn’t sure she’d ever be able to send it flying as he had - she simply lacked the leverage, the height - but all the same.

It had been remarkably satisfying to use.

One of the men on the floor twitched, and she smiled, sliding it off her arm and resting it between her legs while she unclipped the straps that would hold it to the back of her uniform.

The radio clipped to her pocket crackled to life, and through it spoke Howard, his drawl apparent even through the static. “Sooo, sweetheart. D’ja like it?”

“Don’t call me sweetheart,” she said, wedging the receiver between her cheek and shoulder. “How did you know I was done?”

“We’ve got eyes on you,” he said, dismissing the question easily. “And the screaming stopped, which usually means you’ve wrapped up.”

Peggy smirked, a private indulgence. “You do know me well.”

“That I do. A truck is coming for you out by the south entrance.” Howard paused, and when he spoke next, he was quieter, and earnest. “Seriously though. Peg. How was it?”

Peggy stopped mid pace. She closed her eyes, and took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. The shield, newly settled into the straps that held it to her back, protective and out of her way, rested heavily, but not uncomfortably against her hips. Her shoulders ached so that she knew she would be pleasantly sore in a couple of hours, and she rolled them experimentally, feeling the weight of the shield shift and move with her as she resumed a slow trot toward the exit. The radio, stuffed into her collar, hissed, and she reached up to answer.

“You know, Howard, I think it will do just fine.”


End file.
